


(Self) Preservation

by fyeahblackturtlenecks



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen, trigger warning--depression and implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyeahblackturtlenecks/pseuds/fyeahblackturtlenecks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the tumblr ask meme prompt "♟:Patching up a wound." Three months out of the Pits of Hathsin, and there are some things that Dockson can't help but address with his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Self) Preservation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duncant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duncant/gifts).



> So I have the headcanon that at least for a while before he started traveling around skaa plantations, Kelsier went back to visit his friends after the Pits of Hathsin. And then tumblr user gyornhrathen sent me this prompt. And then this happened. I'm sorry?

The streets of Luthadel were pitch-dark when Kelsier sprang up from his spot curled up in an armchair in the corner of Dockson’s so-called study. It was more attic than actual study, a slightly drafty room on the top floor of Clubs’s shop. It had the best windows, and it was for that reason that Dockson had moved his office there after Kelsier’s return, keeping the windows open just in case Kelsier deemed doors an insufficient entrance.

Dockson put down his pen, watching Kelsier as he pulled his mistcloak closer around his body. It was still unfamiliar, the sight of Kelsier ready to lose himself in the greying darkness, but as long as Kelsier had something to keep him happy, Dockson wouldn’t complain. “Going somewhere?”

Kelsier shrugged, stilling again as he came to a stop in front of the window. His covered shoulders drooped, any trace of his earlier motion quickly fading. “Maybe,” he said.

“Everything alright?” Dockson stood, moving to stand leaning against the front of his desk and crossing his arms over his chest. He struggled to keep his face calm—Kelsier never had been one to take kindly to concern aimed in his direction, even after the Pits. 

Kelsier responded with a noncommittal hum. He slipped a hand under the cloak and brought out a vial filled with clear liquid, metallic flakes resting at the bottom. He pulled out the cork and downed its contents all at once, not even flinching at what Dockson knew was a fairly high concentration of alcohol. In his other hand there was a coin, ready to drop. He opened the shutter and swung both legs over the windowsill in one fluid motion. “I’ll be back eventually,” he said, ending in a heavy sigh. Below, a faint _clink_ signaled the coin’s landing in the street. 

“Stay safe, alright?” Despite his best efforts, Dockson couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice that time, and he saw the corners of Kelsier’s mouth just barely turn downwards in response. 

“I’ll do my best,” answered Kelsier, flashing Dockson a quick smile over his shoulder as he dropped to the window. 

Barely a second later, a sickly _thud_ followed by a groan had Dockson hanging halfway out the window, heart beating in his throat. “Kelsier?!”

Below, Kelsier pushed himself up onto one elbow, left arm slung over his middle at a painful angle. “I’m alright,” he called up with a nonchalant shrug. “Well— _ahh_ —mostly, I think? I didn’t Push on the coin soon enough…”

“Don’t move. I’ll be right down, just—don’t move,” Dockson said, already pushing himself away from the window. “Don’t move!” he called again, before making his way down the hall and running down the stairs.

—————

“Hold still,” said Dockson as he pushed a balled-up handkerchief into Kelsier’s hand. “And bite down on that, or hold it, or something. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”

“Well, my shoulder being _dislocated_ isn’t the most fun I’ve ever had,” Kelsier replied, crushing the cloth with the fingers of his uninjured hand. “How bad can putting it back be?”

“Funny, Kell, but this isn’t the time.” Dockson pulled the other’s arm straight out to the side, clasping the hand firmly and getting a low groan out of Kelsier in response. Dockson adjusted his grip and _pushed_ , making a valiant effort to ignore the sickening scrape of bone against bone and the sharper groan that Kelsier let out. 

As the joint finally slipped back into its socket, Kelsier’s pained expression dissolved into one of relief. He stood up slowly and let the handkerchief fall to the ground, its fabric most likely wrinkled beyond repair. “Well,” he said, “Now that that’s over with, I’m going—“

“No, Kell, you’re not,” Dockson moved to stand in front of the window, pulling the shutters closed while he was at it. “I know you hate it when people worry about you, but I also know that you’re perfectly capable of Pushing on a coin in time to break a fall. I’ve seen you do it.”

“Dox, please, it was a one-time thing…” said Kelsier. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking from Dockson to the window as if he knew exactly where he wanted to be, and it wasn’t in the study.

“Maybe _this_ was, but it’s not as if you haven’t gone out of your way to keep yourself out of danger since you…” Dockson paused. “Since you came back.”

“Dox, no.” Kelsier pulled his mistcloak tighter around himself once more, favoring his left arm as he did so. “Don’t talk about it.” His voice took on a hollow, drained tone as he spoke.

“I know it’s hard,” Dockson continued, “and I’m sorry for saying what I will, but I just got you back. I’d like if my best friend _continued_ surviving.”

“Dox—“ Kelsier dropped heavily down into the armchair, doubling over until his forehead touched his knees. “I don’t—it’s—“ His words cut off into heavy breaths, taken slowly and let out even more so.

Dockson perched on the chair’s arm and hesitated before putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “I know, Kell, I know it’s hard,” he said softly. He rubbed a hand over Kelsier’s back as the other drooped against his leg. “I’m sorry,” he added. “My point was…don’t go dropping yourself out of windows. You’re important, you’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Yeah.” Kelsier shifted closer, his head resting in Dockson’s lap. He looked up at his friend, and a small smile almost reached his eyes. “I won’t drop myself out of windows,” he said. “Can’t make any promises about those Inquisitors, though.” He laughed, a small sound, but one that still had the lines around Dockson’s eyes relaxing, if only a little.

“Just keep yourself safe.” Dockson brushed a few strands of hair out of Kelsier’s face, and hoped that Kelsier’s joke about Inquisitors was only that.

 


End file.
